Many a prayer lifted through rubble of Union University

Courtney Wade is reunited with her father, James, after he arrived at the Union University campus Wednesday. Students were left homeless after a tornado ripped through dorms and overturned cars Tuesday night. "My first thought was: 'Well, I'm just going to die here,'" said Heather Martin, 21, who had been trapped in a women's dorm bathroom with five of her friends.

Jim Weber/The Commercial Appeal

Lindsay Parrish of Memphis gets a hug from fellow Union University student Eric Uwiringigimana of Rwanda amid the wreckage Wednesday. Parrish was hurt when her dorm collapsed Tuesday.

Jim Weber/The Commercial Appeal

JACKSON, Tenn. -- In the darkness, Kevin Furniss of Bartlett reached through an opening of the rubble and felt a firefighter's hand grab his.

&quot;It felt like when I received salvation, when I became a believer in Christ,&quot; Furniss said Wednesday afternoon. &quot;That's what it felt like.&quot;

The human link to the outside world gave comfort to the 20-year-old Union University student trapped in the ruins of Watters Commons after Tuesday's storm devastated the campus and tore through Jackson, Tenn.

But it would still be long minutes before he and six other men would be pulled free. At 6-foot-4, Furniss struggled, frustrated in the cramped space. He could hear rescuers, see their lights. &quot;In our minds, they weren't coming fast enough,&quot; he said.

Marty Clements' family history and that of Union University cast almost the same shadow. Practically everyone in the family -- wife, children, parents, grandparents -- attended the small, Baptist school north of Interstate 40.

Pulling up on the scene Tuesday night, Clements, the Jackson-Madison County EMA director, could see through the minimal light that it was a bad situation.

&quot;I felt like there was probably multiple deaths, maybe 50 to 100 deaths,&quot; he said.

&quot;At that time you can't let it get to you. You have to block it out.&quot;

Clements and other first responders headed to the women's dorms.

&quot;We heard the women who were in there screaming,&quot; Clements said.

He focused first on getting care for the people wandering around. Then he turned to the trapped students.

Seeing the damage at his alma mater was like &quot;losing your church or losing your home. ... These are brothers and sisters in Christ and you feel for them. You've got to help them help themselves.&quot;

Heather Martin and five of her friends lay in a tangled mess in a dorm bathtub where they had sought shelter. And Martin, a 21-year-old junior from Erin, Tenn., was trying to come to grips with her fate. With winds swirling and ear-popping pressure changes, she was scared.

&quot;My first thought was: 'Well, I'm just going to die here.' There was no way we were going to get out,&quot; the nursing student said Wednesday afternoon. &quot;I didn't want to panic. I fought through what (death) was going to be like.

&quot;I'm a Christian, and I talked to the Lord a lot (Tuesday) night. He gave me a real sense of peace. Whether I got out of there or whether I was going to be in there when I died, that sense of peace was really what kept me from panicking.&quot;

The women heard the sirens from emergency vehicles, but Martin did little screaming because she was trying to breathe through a small air pocket. She didn't move much because a friend was pinned underneath her.

&quot;We could see (the rescuers') lights, and at one point, I could see one of their faces,&quot; Martin said. &quot;It was hard to stay still and wait for them, but the person under me, if I moved, it caused her excruciating pain, and she couldn't breathe.&quot;

The women were rescued quickly. Furniss and his friends waited.

To free the men, Clements said rescuers brought in heavy equipment to pull debris away.

&quot;We had to make sure nothing collapsed down on the people that were there,&quot; Martin said. &quot;They were in a restroom and we had to move the layers out from both sides very slowly.&quot;

Furniss and his six friends were almost in a line buried, some 20 feet under tons of rubble.

&quot;Once it collapsed, everyone had stuff on their legs,&quot; Furniss said. &quot;The first hour was panic and wanting out as quickly as possible.&quot;

After about 45 minutes, the group settled in, first joking about where they were going to dinner, then singing and praying. Occasionally spotting lights from rescue teams, &quot;We would holler: 'We see it. We see it,'&quot; Furniss said. &quot;Any Scripture I ever read came back to me between 7 and 10:30 (Tuesday) night.&quot;

Rescue workers eventually got close enough to use chainsaws and sledgehammers.

&quot;The more they hit it (with the sledgehammers), the tighter it got in there,&quot; Furniss said, adding: &quot;(But) at that point, I wanted them to run a car into the pile, use a bulldozer or just blow it up.&quot;

After four of his friends were pulled out, Furniss started punching his way through wallboard and insulation above him, eventually breaking through.

&quot;I started waving my hand out and someone reached down and squeezed it,&quot; he said. &quot;I knew then that I had life and I was getting out of there.&quot;

On Wednesday, after a day of tests, Furniss sat in a room at Jackson-Madison County General Hospital. His legs were still numb and banged up, but that was OK.

Throughout his ordeal Tuesday night, Furniss had clutched his laptop. Somehow he dropped it just as he was rescued.

&quot;I've got everything on it,&quot; he said. &quot;Everything I've ever written for classes, photos, video editing, music. All that superficial stuff that now that I'm out and alive that I really want.&quot;